


Tempus Fugue

by endofunctor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-01
Updated: 2011-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 00:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofunctor/pseuds/endofunctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aradia plays psychotherapist to a time-travelling Dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempus Fugue

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this because I seem to have hit writer's block on Chapter 2 of Terrorizing the Natives.

For most of his life, Dave's never had time to reflect. He's always been busy dodging swords or puppet ass or trying to come up with new rhymes, new beats, new sick jams. It'd been like that since he'd arrived on Earth, eyes hidden behind dark shades as he learned his way around a turntable before practicing swordfighting before practicing rap before practicing a million other coolkid things. But now he has all the time in two worlds and then some, time stretching in front of him like a gaping abyss, and the view terrifies him more than the lava at the bottom of his planet.

Because Dave's never wanted to have time, because when he does he has time to think. And when he thinks his thoughts inevitably curve inwards like a bullet drawn back to his head. He's constantly dancing on the edge of a knife that keeps trying to move out from under him, and the jerky motion is what keeps him stable. When the knife stops it's only him, only him keeping his mind's center above the impossibly thin blade of motionless time and he's left lurching until it starts back up again and he can return to that constant dance.

It's only worse now that he's seen himself die a dozen deaths, failing in ways he'll never be able to know or understand. Necks cut, spilling red blood on green and black suits. Orange ethereal life, pixels and void bleeding out on the ground, next to --

No, he stops that there because he doesn't want to confront reality. Because in his heart he knows that on some level Sburb is about changing who you are and dealing with your inner demons. He doesn't want to confront that his own inability to face the truth is why he'll never be as good as John, that the game set out the challenge to face his own death and that he's going to fail at it. And his resignation to that failure is a failure in and of itself, and -- then his thought process short-circuits, triggers some emergency reset he'd trained himself to have (or maybe that had been trained into him) for those rare moments when he does think about himself.

So he picks up Caledscratch and his time tables and goes to kill some imps, folding time around him to protect himself from himself. He can feel paradox space and paradox time around him, pushing against him in that way that keeps most people stuck at the rate of one second per second. But he knows just how to convince it to do what he wants. Besides, he has to succeed, because he can already see Daves appearing around him. Maybe if he does it enough, fucks up the timeline enough and creates enough causal loops, he'll be too busy keeping track of the past and future to pay attention to the present.

Only he doesn't even get that little comfort, because not long into the time loops he's making and breaking and weaving like Clotho his glasses flash dark red.

\-- apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG]   
AA: hi!

He pauses time, jumps up onto a ledge with coolkid grace, and leaves a giclops or three for other selves to kill. He doesn't watch them because he knows (will known) what they do (will done) when he does (will do) it.

TG: okay so which one are you   
AA: i am the maid of time!   
AA: we actually talked before when you were younger   
AA: you thought i was a fan of yours   
AA: but then i died   
TG: yeah i can see how that'd put a damper on things   
TG: but obviously you're not dead   
AA: nope!   
TG: clearly your appreciation for my sick beats and mad rhymes mustve brought you back   
TG: afterlife can't hold a girl who's gotten a taste of my rhythms   
AA: i came back to life when i exploded and ascended to god tier   
TG: oh cool so does that mean you're like   
TG: some kind of weird time traveling alien thing with a dorky looking hoodie   
AA: pretty much, yeah :)   
AA: well i also have wings   
AA: but that's not the point   
TG: what is the point then   
AA: the point is that i can feel what youre doing through the effect it has on paradox space   
TG: what do you mean what im doing   
AA: the time travel   
AA: you might not be able to tell because you're in the middle of it   
AA: but youre abusing paradox time more than it was meant to be abused   
AA: because of all your duplication   
AA: and if you keep it up bad things might happen   
TG: like what   
TG: i cant see how time travel could possibly go wrong   
TG: there is literally no way for this to blow up in my face   
AA: like accumulating dead versions of you or paradox vortices   
TG: paradox vortices what is this some kind of shitty video game   
TG: well i guess it is   
TG: all impractical swords and prophecies and ridiculous outfits straight from one of egbert's japanese animes   
TG: goty 2009 right here   
TG: all we need is a talking sidekick with a sassy mouth and were golden   
AA: i am sure your consorts would fill that role admirably :)   
AA: but the point is that you should stop it   
AA: trust me i know a lot about time   
AA: i would say that i am made of it but i already made that joke   
AA: though it was several sweeps ago   
TG: i hope i chewed you out for it because that shit was worse than one of harley's jokes   
TG: but seriously i have this under control   
TG: this shit's on lockdown   
TG: daves in prison cells waiting for their daily exercise in the form of ass kicking before being locked back up   
TG: their crime   
TG: being too awesome   
TG: felony charge open and shut case   
TG: no jury in the world wouldve found them innocent   
AA: but as utterly cool as they are   
AA: theyre still dangerous   
AA: because as good as you may be at keeping timelines straight in your head   
AA: nobody is perfect and you should stop pretending that you are

Yeah. Easy for her to say; she hadn't grown up with Bro. Every time he thought he was good enough, every time he was close to beating him in a fight he'd just move faster, swing harder, dodge quicker.

Below, an imp frozen in time is bisected and disappears. The Dave that killed it pulls out his time tables and disappears in a shower of energy; from this new perspective, he can start to feel what she was talking about. Time feels wrong down there now that he's not in the thick of it all, stretched thin like taffy folded in on itself too many times.

TG: yeah well pardon me if i dont spill my guts to every red text girl that shows up   
AA: i didnt expect you to   
AA: but i do think i have an idea of what your reasons are   
AA: i think youre afraid   
TG: what could there possibly be to be afraid of   
TG: theres an semiomnipotent killer dog that just stabbed me and my bro   
TG: theres apparently some kind of bomb at the center of the planet set to go off   
TG: and everybody on earth is dead   
TG: what the hell is there to be afraid of   
AA: those are all true things!   
AA: but i dont think its what scares you   
AA: i think youre scared of yourself   
AA: trust me i know what thats like   
AA: even before i came back to life i still played the game in a robot body   
AA: and i saw versions of myself from doomed timelines die over and over   
AA: though i suppose i had it easier being dead myself at the time   
TG: nah its not just that   
TG: besides i told you i got this under control   
TG: i could probably kill all these underlings myself   
AA: i figured it wasnt   
AA: because creating more versions of yourself is kind of a bad way to avoid seeing yourself die   
AA: i think that you are hiding from something else inside you   
AA: im not the seer of mind so i dont know what it is   
TG: oh christ could we not bring up her right now   
TG: she does some kind of fandango on my brainstem and its just the most unnerving thing   
TG: like im lying on a couch and shes my psychiatrist   
TG: only instead of asking me about my mother she tries to lick my eyes   
AA: sorry!   
AA: but   
AA: i think it is something that the game is trying to get you to overcome   
AA: because we tend to get roles that force us to grow   
TG: makes sense   
TG: game probably doesnt want the inheritors of the universe to still poop their diapers like a bunch of babies   
AA: one of us was assigned the title of prince of hope   
AA: so that he could learn that he did not have to be like his ancestor   
AA: even though he kept trying   
AA: but he failed to escape his shadow   
AA: and that decision wound up tearing him apart   
AA: oh gosh that was bad of me   
TG: youre all about the bad puns right now arent you   
TG: but seriously   
TG: i dont need your help   
TG: i got this   
AA: okay okay   
AA: talk to you later then coolkid   
TG: i dont think later means much for us   
AA: well   
AA: you know what i mean :)

\-- apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG]

It's a half-hour later, as measured by Dave's own personal timeline. From the point of view of the planet, it's more like five minutes. All the Daves have resolved their own loops and causal twirls, crackles of energy seeking through the fabric of paradox time and searching for the corresponding selves in the past. It's a delicate dance, one that only he could do. Now time's caught up to him, now he's caught up to himself, and there's nowhere and nowhen left for him to hide here on these spinning gears.

But this time, he doesn't run, doesn't try his hardest to keep one step, one leap, one temporal jump ahead of the wave of time. He lets it crash over him, bends with it, lets the wave of introspection fill him. And so he sits down and forces himself to actually think, to pierce his own irony veil for once in his life.

He thinks about his friend John and that dorky little blue outfit he wears. He thinks of the green-clad Dave he saw on his bed, the Dave that got killed by something or other because he couldn't give himself a swift death. The Dave he found in his room with his throat cut. Davesprite, a failed version of himself that had fallen against Jack. And -- and -- and his Bro beside him, red and orange mixed together.

He wonders what he would tell him to do, what that anime-shade-wearing ass would say. Or what John would say through those stupid buckteeth, or what cryptic knowledge Davesprite would tell him. But then, it doesn't actually matter, because he has to get out from their shadows. He has to get out from his **own** shadow.

So he crouches, tenses his legs, springs off of the girder, and he soars. A midair step and he's above a hulking ruby giclops, one eye staring up at him. Then Caledscratch is in his arm, broken but still just as sharp. He reaches into the future, steals time from himself, and falls faster than gravity can take him into a shower of garnet and ruby.

He can't float like John, can't fly like Davesprite, but that doesn't matter, because it's not how long you stay in the air that matters. It's what you do with it.


End file.
